


Feel

by Lleu



Category: Star Wars Legends: Knights of the Old Republic II: The Sith Lords
Genre: First Kiss, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-16
Updated: 2016-02-16
Packaged: 2018-05-20 23:32:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6029593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lleu/pseuds/Lleu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“You can’t tell him. Please. I don’t want him to—”</i>
  <br/>
  <i>“Think less of you? I hardly think that possible.”</i>
</p>
<p>Whatever it was, he <i>wanted</i> it, in a deep, visceral way: he wanted the Exile, and he wanted to <i>be</i> the Exile. He wanted that bright sun to burn away all his impurities, all his darkness, all his secrets.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Feel

_“You can’t tell him. Please. I don’t want him to—”  
“Think less of you? I hardly think that possible.”  _

So he played along with Kreia’s game, always the dutiful pawn, focusing on the cards in his head and trying to ignore the — admiration? attraction? other words the start with aurek? The whatever-it-was he felt every time he looked at... _him_. The Exile. Raist Endac.

The feeling got stronger with every passing day, every moment they spent together. “You just seem...different,” he told Raist, more than once. “Since Peragus.” Since Citadel. Since Telos. Since Nar Shaddaa. Since each new stop on their trip to wherever the hell they were going. Every step surer than the last. “I’m not sure how to explain it.”

But whatever it was, he _wanted_ it, in a deep, visceral way: he wanted Raist, and he wanted to _be_ Raist. He wanted that bright sun to burn away all his impurities, all his darkness, all his secrets. But the darkness was still, always, there, wrapped around him like a cloak, trapping him in a web of his own lies.

“I met someone on Nar Shaddaa who said they knew you,” Raist said casually one day as they sat in the _Ebon Hawk_ ’s cockpit, doing a routine systems check.

“Oh yeah? Did they say I owed them money, too?”

“They said they met you in the Refugee Quarter. That I shouldn’t trust you. That you weren’t who you say you are.”

His heart skipped a beat. “Who else would I be?”

“You tell me.” He looked up and saw Raist looking back at him.

“Look, I’m just a guy trying to get by. Is that so hard to believe?”

A long pause. “Why _do_ you count cards, Atton?”

He bristled. “What can I say? I like my privacy. If you really want to know you can just go digging in my head yourself.”

“Is that what you think of me?” Raist sounded hurt.

“No,” he said grudgingly. “It’s just — you can’t trust Jedi.”

“You don’t trust me?”

“You’re...” He struggled for words. “You’re different.”

“Different from who?”

He opened his mouth fully intending to offer up some glib explanation, but instead the _truth_ came pouring out. All the secrets. All the lies. All the darkness. That he’d killed. That he’d _enjoyed_ the killing. How he’d been saved. (That he’d killed the one who saved him.)

Raist just listened, prompting him occasionally but otherwise letting him speak freely. No questions. No judgment.

“And then I met you,” he heard himself saying. “And you were...you _are_ everything. So much more than I could ever hope to be. But maybe...maybe it’s time I stopped being afraid to try.”

“Atton, I...” Raist shook his head. “Thank you. If...if you’re ready, I would be honored to teach you.”

“What do I have to do?”

“Close your eyes,” Raist said. Shoving aside a vestigial distrust, he did so. He flinched instinctively as Raist put a hand on his shoulder. “Relax. _Feel_ , don’t think.”

“Easy for you to say,” he says ruefully, eyes still closed.

“Maybe this will help,” Raist said, and then they were kissing, and he felt the walls he’d built crumbling and falling down, and just for an instant he _felt_ , rather than heard, Raist: _:: I love you. ::_

“I love you, too,” he said aloud, and he knew in that moment it was true.


End file.
